Like A Stone Inside My Shoe
by Ninnik Nishukan
Summary: Drakken and Shego’s realities go splat. Come meet some new faces. Post-Graduation AU.
1. Vanilla

**Like A**** Stone Inside My Shoe **

By Ninnik Nishukan

* * *

**Summary:** Drakken and Shego's realities go splat. Come meet some new faces. Post-Graduation AU.

* * *

They've already met once through a mutual friend, but they also meet a few times a couple of weeks beforehand. Have coffee three or four times, dinner once, to get acquainted.

She's a teacher, he's a professor. They're fourteen years apart, give or take a few months, with her at thirty-two and him at forty-six. No husband for her, no wife for him, no boyfriends for her, no girlfriends for him.

Nobody will really miss them while they're gone. Not for only a week.

She used to be engaged, but it ended a couple of years back. He was married for three years until he got divorced about five years ago.

No kids for either of them, or they probably wouldn't be doing this.

* * *

When Shego wakes up, she immediately knows that something's wrong. She's had enough experience with waking up in strange places to know. This place doesn't smell like…well, _any _of their lairs, which usually seem to have, no matter where they are in the world, a permanent, faint aroma of hot chocolate and some sort of smelly fluids that Dr. D always uses to clean his lab equipment.

This place smells…_new_, like crisp, clean plastic and something lemon-scented.

And…yeah, then there's the fact that she's bolted down on hands and feet with some sort of padded clamps. This doesn't usually happen to her at home.

Blinking against the bright lights, she can see a couple of blurry figures moving about.

"Hey!" She shouts, silently cursing the fact that the groggy hoarseness of her voice takes away a lot of the authority she's trying to convey. "Who the heck are _you_? Where am I?"

"Um, well, you're at TechnoWiz Enterprises, or TWE, as we like to call it," begins a hesitant, male voice.

"I doubt that's what she wants to know." Another voice interjects; this one more certain, and with a slight Indian accent. "Listen, you've been here for a week, voluntarily participating in an experiment—"

Shego growls. "Nice try! I don't remember volunteering for any exp— hey, hang on! Are you saying I've been lying here for an entire _week_?"

"Um…yes."

She takes a breath, trying to digest this new piece of information without completely boiling over; now is not the time to lose her head. Not when she doesn't know what these people are capable of yet. "How did I eat?" She wonders, trying to buy herself some time.

"Intravenously." The more uncertain man says, and she can finally see them as her eyes adjust to the light.

They both look to be in their late twenties or early thirties, with casual clothes under matching red jackets that say _TechnoWiz Enterprises_. The taller one is Caucasian, with short, brown hair, blue eyes and a slight slouch, and the shorter one looks Indian, with an impressive head of full, almost shoulder-length black hair. The tall guy vaguely reminds her of Kimmie's dad, but the voice is all wrong, and he's too young.

After the mention of 'intravenously', Shego's eyes travel down to her arm, and indeed, there's an IV tube stuck there. "What about…the bathroom?" She asks reluctantly.

The tall guy looks suddenly discomfited. "Um, maybe it's better if you didn't know."

Shego glares at them both; they seem to mean no harm at the moment, but whoever did this to her is going to pay. "Okay, whatever is going on, I hope you know you've got about two seconds to release me before I put TWE out of business…permanently. _Capisce_?"

"Uh, I don't think you can—"

There's a loud snort and a string of bewildered noises coming from a few feet away, then, and Shego tries to turn her head, which isn't too easy when you're tied down. "Who else is here?" She demands.

She finds out quickly enough, though.

"Wha— what's going on? Is this some sort of _joke_? Shego! I _told _you that you couldn't play practical jokes on me anymore! Only on April first!"

An unfamiliar sort of relief courses through Shego; she's not here alone. "Uh, yeah, funny thing, Doc," she says sarcastically, "I'm not the one doing this."

"Huh? Don't kid around, Shego! Just let me go!" Drakken barks, starting to thrash around to get loose.

The Indian guy coughs politely to get his attention. "Um, sir, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't strain yourself. We don't quite know how you'll react to—"

Drakken freezes, then scowls hard. "What? I can't see properly! Who's there?"

"Oh, um, I forgot," The taller guy says. "You need your glasses."

"What are you _talking_ about? I haven't needed glasses since—"

Something cold presses against his cheeks, eyebrows and temples, and Drakken immediately recognizes the sensation of wearing glasses, like a blast from the past. Suddenly, everything comes back into focus.

And he gasps, loudly and dramatically, with outrage.

"James T. Possible!" Drakken snarls. "_You_! What have you _done_ to me? I didn't think this sort of thing was your style, but now you're showing your _true_ colors, eh? Does your precious little _Kimberly_ know about this? Does she? _Does_ sh— huh?"

Drakken blinks in surprise as the padded metal clasps holding his arms and legs in place unlock. "You're…you're setting me free?" He asks, flabbergasted, sitting up slowly.

Shego sits up, too, carefully removing her IV and stretching herself. She decides not to do anything too rash until she's figured out what's actually going on here. But then she tries to run her fingers through her hair, and freezes when she runs out of hair after only about a foot, instead of three feet like usual.

When she turns to Drakken…she notices that he's not blue anymore.

As Drakken talks to the two strangers, Shego can only stare at him.

The short, Indian guy, whom Drakken thinks slightly resembles his ex-friend Ramesh, sighs and shakes his head. "I told you it might be a bad idea to model one of the characters after yourself, but would you listen? Oh, noooo, you just—"

"Uh, my name's not James T. Possible," the Possible-lookalike says quickly, trying to interrupt his colleague's lecture. "It's…uh, Charlie Peterson. The 'James T.' part was just a little gag…you know, um…a _Star Trek_ reference? Captain James T. Kirk?" Charlie admits, looking a bit sheepish.

Drakken replies with a blank look. "_Star Trek_?"

"_You_ know! You've always _loved_ _Star Trek_! To boldly go where no man has— um, just forget it, not important right now," Charlie mumbles, growing slightly embarrassed. "The point is that you're _not_ Drakken and Shego, you're—"

"What are you _blathering_ about, man?" Drakken snaps, shaking a fist at Charlie. "You expect us to believe that—"

Shego interrupts his rant with a hand on his shoulder. "You're not blue." She says flatly, as if she just discovered the fact. Somehow, saying it out loud makes it realer. "And you don't have a scar. And check out the outfit, Doc."

Drakken looks down at himself. He's not wearing a dark blue lab coat and boots. He's wearing sweats, and they're not even blue. They're grey. Kind of...nondescript. When he looks over at Shego, she's wearing the same thing. And she looks...different. Sure, she's still kind of pale, but it's a normal, healthy color, not green. Her usual long, long, black waterfall of hair has been replaced with hair that's still very dark, but which has a more normal brown instead of a green sheen to it, and is much shorter.

When their eyes meet, he notices that her eyes are a light, caramel brown, not green.

And she discovers that his eyes are a very dark brown...not black. His hair is still black, however, but not spiky, and—

"Uh, Dr. D, when did you cut your...uh..." She murmurs, nodding at the back of his head.

Automatically, his hand flies up to touch his ponytail, but he finds himself simply grasping at air. "Hey! You cut my ponytail! This is low even for _you_, Possible!"

Shego nods, scowling. "And _who's_ the wise guy who decided to give me a make-over, huh?" She pulls at her shorter hair, brandishing it as if it's Exhibit A in a murder trial. "You think this is _funny_?" She sneers, her fingers curling into claws. "I'll show _you_ funny, you—"

She halts, gawking in horror at her hands.

She tries again.

Nothing.

They're not igniting. No green glow.

"Yeah, um, you can't do that here, I'm afraid." Charlie Peterson tells her. "Only in the game. And I just told you my name is _Peterson,_ not Possible."

Drakken studies the Possible-lookalike closer, and only now, it's dawning on him that this man looks at least ten years younger than James T. Possible. No grey hair, he's in better shape, and his hairstyle is different. The voice is kind of...wrong, too. "Game?" Drakken ventures apprehensively.

"You don't remember?" The Indian gentleman asks in surprise before he sighs. "Ah well, I suppose that's why we hired you in the first place. To find out how people would react to such a long game." The man runs a hand through his long, black hair and shrugs. "I guess I should reintroduce myself, then. I'm Mukunda Suresh, Charlie's business partner. We were the ones who developed this game together."

"What kinda game are you talking about?" Shego asks sharply, still upset about her—_ temporary_, she tells herself— loss of powers.

"It's a highly sophisticated form of a virtual reality game. _Kim Possible_." Charlie says. "It's called _Kim Possible_, and you were playing as the villains. We've already woken up the people who played as...uh, Kim and Ron. I don't know why it took us longer to bring you around. We still have a lot of bugs to work through, that's why I was so grateful when you volunteered to help me test the new game." He frowns, looking a little worried all of a sudden. "I really hope your memory returns eventually, because...well, I sorta considered you my friends, actually. George, you were my favourite college professor and a friend of my uncle, and Ava, you're my sister's best friend."

Shego sends Charlie a look of complete disorientation. "George? Ava? What are you talking about? Who are they?"

Charlie looks even more distressed now. "Who...well, they're _you_, of course!"

Drakken looks at Charlie as if he's gone insane. "Huh?"

"You're George Nowak and you're Ava Bernstein." Mukunda chimes in, trying to help out his upset colleague.

"Oh-kaaay..." Shego says slowly, as if talking to not very bright children. "And you guys had those severe concussions of yours _when_ exactly...?"

"No, no, it's true!" Charlie insists, nodding frantically as he holds out a bunch of papers and plastic folders with assorted cards. "Look here, _here_ are your driver's licences, and your key card for the university, George—"

"Right," Drakken scoffs, snatching the things out of Charlie's hands and passing them over to Shego. "Next I expect you're going to tell me that I work at the Middleton Institute of Science and Technology, and that Shego—"

"Ava," Mukunda corrects him, earning a glare.

"—and that _Shego_," Drakken repeats stubbornly, "works at Middleton High School or something like that, hmm?"

"No, _she_ works at East Lansing High School and _you_ work at Michigan State University." Mukunda informs him calmly.

Drakken turns to Shego for backup, but she's staring at the driver's license and other miscellaneous papers in her hands. "I own a Volvo," she says in a dull, absentminded monotone. "And a stupid little apartment near where I apparently work."

"Don't be silly, Shego, you know we live at the lair and drive a hover car—" Drakken objects, but hesitates when she lifts her gaze to meet his and he sees the glassy look of realization in her eyes.

And he looks down at his own identification papers and he—

—remembers.

"It started out with just virtual vacations." Charlie is saying now, and his voice seems toned down, far away. "Peaceful. But then we thought...why not make some exciting adventures?"

"I think perhaps we should make them...a _little_ less exciting." Mukunda suggests.

Charlie nods. "And probably not...y'know, a whole week long."

"Probably not." Mukunda echoes sadly.

"So, um..." Charlie begins, "...do you guys remember me now?"

George drags his gaze up and looks at Charlie. "You...you were in my class five years ago. Robotics 201. You used to sit at the back and fall asleep." He murmurs, frowning.

Ava nods feebly. "You're Janice's little brother. I remember that I..." She pauses, screws up her face as she tries to concentrate: "I think I went to her baby shower like three months ago."

Charlie's face lights up. "You did!"

Ava turns a bit paler. "I'm not twenty-seven. I'm thirty-two."

George looks distinctly unsettled as well. "And I'm not forty-two...I'm actually forty-six..."

"Uh, well," Charlie clears his throat. "It's not that big of a difference. You'll adjust."

"And you'll have time to rest now, remember?" Mukunda pipes up, a little too cheerfully. "Before you have to go back to work."

Ava breathes a small sigh. "Right. Yeah...that'll be good, yeah..."

"We'll have you back here in a couple of weeks for follow-up and for your evaluation of the game, okay?" Charlie says, starting to relax again.

"I'll just follow you out to the rest of your belongings," Mukunda says, pointing out the door. "We kept them in a locker in—"

"That's okay," Ava cuts him off. "I remember."

* * *

Only a day and a half goes by before he calls her. He can't deal with this alone. Even if he had a wife or somebody to talk to, which he doesn't, they wouldn't understand. Only Sheg— _Ava_ would understand, because she's the only one who's had the same experience.

"I was just about to call you," she admits when he calls, sounding a little embarrassed.

He invites her over right away.

When she arrives, he lets her into his house, and then they just sort of...sit there on his couch, staring at each other.

"You have this big house and I just have an apartment." She comments eventually, to break the silence. "No fair."

He shrugs, not exactly sure what to say. "Well, uh, I dunno...I'm older than you, and my job pays more. It's only reasonable, I suppose. I mean, I didn't have this house when I was your age." He adds carefully, wondering how much of the Shego temper is left in Ava.

"I guess," Ava sighs.

"At least you have the better name." George says, trying to cheer her up. "George is such a very…_normal_ kind of name. At least 'Ava' isn't that commonplace."

A smile quirks the side of her mouth. "Well, 'Shego' was even more memorable."

"'George Nowak' is so boring, nothing like 'Drew Theodore P. Lipsky AKA Dr. Drakken'." George goes on. "_That's_ the kind of name you'd _remember_."

"Yeah, because it's totally ridiculous." Ava scoffs.

"Oh, and 'Shego' isn't?" George counters dryly. "Might as well be named 'She-Ra' or 'She-Hulk'."

Where Shego might have gotten mad, however, Ava only laughs. "Yeah, we might have to take that up when we're evaluating the game, huh?"

There's silence.

"You know, Dr. D, this is the weirdest thing ever— I mean, we—" She pauses, makes a frustrated face. "Ugh, I just called you Dr. D! See? How weird _is_ this?"

"It's very weird indeed, She—" He gives an annoyed grunt. "Ava."

She sighs in exasperation. "It's like...I've known you for _years_, but now I suddenly _don't_ know you anymore! You're just some guy I met a few weeks ago because we both know Charlie and we agreed to do this harebrained experiment!"

"I...I guess we could...uh...get to know each other again?" He prompts tentatively, feeling much too young and insecure for a second.

She gives a surprised little chuckle. "Are you _coming_ _on_ _to_ me...George? Dr. D never flirted like this with Shego, you know."

George rolls his eyes, looking uncomfortable. "Give me some _credit_, She— Ava. I'm just curious, that's all. You can't try to tell me you're not."

And she _is _curious. They're both asking themselves the same question, she can tell.

_How different is this person from the figment of imagination that I just spent five years_—_ which was really only a week_—_ with? _

Ava shakes her head, grinning a little. "You're on, George. I'll stop by in a couple of days."

* * *

The next Tuesday, Ava does indeed stop by, and she's brought bagels.

"You know, Dra— George," Ava remarks as she looks out George's window. It's sleeting hard outside; sideways, with an unforgiving, cold wind. "If this was Middleton, it would be sunny right now."

George hands her a large, steaming mug of tea with milk. She's already had to borrow a towel to dry her face and hair, and her boots and coat are hanging up to dry in the hallway near the radiator.

"Yes, I might miss that." He nods. "I do kind of like the variety, though."

"Maybe," Ava says, sipping at her tea, "maybe we should make a list."

"List? What kind of list, She— Ava?"

"Like this," she explains, taking the pen and note pad he keeps on his coffee table and quickly making two columns on it; one marked _PROS_ and the other marked_ CONS_.

He looks intrigued. "You mean a list of the pros and cons of being Drakken and Shego?"

"Yep." Ava nods. "I'm gonna go ahead and put 'bigger house' and 'more money' under _PROS_ right away."

"Power," George says flatly.

"Oh, yeah," Ava murmurs, her eyes glazing over a bit. "I'm definitely gonna miss Shego's powers. I mean, I wouldn't want to hurt anybody, but that green glow _was_ kinda handy…"

"So was the ability to invent giant robots and such." George murmurs wistfully. "Trust me, robotics in the real world isn't _nearly _as fantastic…or easy."

Ava's voice takes on that same sentimental quality. "I miss being able to master types of Kung Fu that I've never even heard of now, and being able to make gravity-defying leaps and jumps."

"I wish I'd had some more time to explore my new plant powers," George says, sighing. "I mean, the game was almost over by the time I actually got them."

"Yeah, that might've been interesting…" Ava nods as she continues to write. "And the hover car was cool."

"Yeah," George agrees, grinning a goofy little boy grin.

Ava shakes her head, smiling faintly. George has to be a sci-fi geek. That would explain why he got along so well with Charlie despite the fact that Charlie wasn't exactly his best student.

"I didn't have to wear glasses," George says, scowling slightly.

Ava sighs. "Me neither."

George sends her a puzzled look. "Hmm? But you don't wear—"

"Reading glasses," Ava tells him, pulling them out of her purse and showing them to him. "I remembered when I tried to read the TV guide yesterday. Couldn't see a thing." She also happened to discover that Ava Bernstein barely owns a single green article of clothing, but that's another story.

George's eyebrows rise. "Huh."

"Yeah," Ava grunts as she slips the glasses on. "I was thinner, younger and I didn't have to wear glasses."

George's look turns sympathetic. He wants to tell her she looks good in those glasses— which she does— but she'd probably only accuse him of flirting again. He wants to tell her that she does looks thin, and young— okay, so maybe she looks a bit…softer than Shego, but it suits her— but he's learned from his three-year marriage that when some women want to be self-deprecating, nothing any male says will stop them if they're in the right sort of mood.

So, in the end, he simply settles for: "There are _some_ advantages to being us, you know."

She releases an incredulous little puff of breath. "Such as?"

"Not having to run from the law?" He prompts matter-of-factly.

"True," Ava agrees after a moment of contemplation. 'Wanted criminals' gets put down under _CONS_. A definite downside to being Drakken and Shego.

George hems and haws for a while, trying to come up with something else; a single 'con' does not a list make. "Not getting my home blown up by an annoying teen vigilante every week anymore?"

Ava nods, and adds 'lairs/homes often destroyed' to _CONS _as well. "Having to deal with Shego's irritating brothers," She says firmly, and adds it to _CONS_.

"Or Drakken's mother," George reminds her, and under _CONS_ it goes.

"Having to move all the time was a _CON_." She suggests.

"So was employing those incompetent henchmen." He says with an eye roll.

She writes it all down. "And getting bested by a creepy naked mole rat." She decides, sticking her tongue out.

He grimaces, too. "Definitely _that_."

"And hey, you don't even have a monobrow anymore," she points out, grinning.

"Shut up," he grumbles good-naturedly, and she laughs.

"You know, it's also good that we don't have careers that involve…uh, terrorizing people anymore." Ava suddenly realizes, and is quick to write it down on the list.

They lock gazes for a brief moment, and both can tell the other is thinking the exact same thing. They're both feeling ashamed and just a little intimidated and fascinated by the fact that they didn't even think to add that particular point to the list before now.

Twelve more items on the _PROS_ and _CONS_ list, two bagels, four chocolate cookies and two more cups of tea later, Ava's asleep on the couch and George is headed to bed himself.

As it sleets on outside, George is grateful that they don't have to go to work the next day.

They have a few weeks off from work, in anticipation of whatever recuperation period they might suffer. Give them some time to get back to themselves, so to speak.

It takes them several more days to stop calling each other 'Dr. D' and 'Shego' whenever they're not quite paying attention.

* * *

"So, are you gonna tell me more about yourself?" She asks one day as she's stretched out on his bed watching TV while he's sitting at the foot of the bed, leaning his arms on his knees. They're in here because he's got college papers spread all across his living room table.

So far, they've mostly been talking about the game. And the last time, they were so sick of talking about it that they went out to a movie instead; getting themselves lost in a different sort of fake reality.

Now, she wants to focus on the real world for a while.

George purses his lips, looking up at the ceiling as the evening news chatters on. "Well, I'm...um, I don't know what to say, really. What do you wanna know?"

"I don't know." She says and rolls around on her stomach, propping herself up on her arms. "Do you enjoy your job? Do you have any hobbies? Ever been abroad?

He laughs softly. "You want me to answer those in order?"

She grins. "Go ahead."

He draws a breath. "Yes, I enjoy my job. I like to go fishing sometimes, and I like to read. I went to Thailand for my honeymoon."

She's quiet for a while. "Do you still love your ex-wife?"

His expression becomes a little pained. "Let's just say that the only good thing to come out of that marriage was the fact that she was decent enough not to take my house."

"Ouch," Ava comments sympathetically.

"And you?" He inquires with some hesitation. "Do you still love your ex-fiancée?"

Ava bites her lip, fingers tangling absently in her hair. "Uh…is it enough if I tell you that I'm not sure if I loved him in the first place?"

"Say no more." George nods in understanding. "Now…how about you?"

She shrugs. "I wish I had a different job. I like to go hiking and I like to watch movies. I went on a trip around the world after college."

He sends her a questioning, puzzled glance. "Then why don't you just get a different job?"

Ava sighs, shaking her head. "I have no idea. Maybe I should."

"I could ask some people I know if you like." He suggests carefully.

She nods. "I'll think about it."

Something occurs to him, then, and he turns to her fully, away from the TV. "…_really_ around the _whole world_?"

She gives a small laugh. "Yep."

George is looking at her like he's sort of impressed now. "I think I'd like to do that once."

She flops down with her chin on his comforter. "Takes a lot of time and money, and I got food poisoning at least twice."

He feels like he has to object. "Yeah, but still—"

She interrupts him with a crooked little smile, remembering. "Still…it was worth it, yeah."

"I wonder if that's why they do it." George muses.

"Who?"

"Drakken and Shego." He says, picking idly at a corner of his comforter. "Trying to take over the world. It's tough, but maybe they do it because it's exciting."

"They're just characters in a game." She mutters."Taking over the world in real life wouldn't be as interesting, or even possible."

He lets go of a heartfelt sigh. "True."

She props her chin up in her hands, feeling the urge to change the subject. "So, is this the part when you show me your extensive _Star Trek_ collection?"

His eyes go round. "How did you know about my—?"

"Lucky guess."

George chuckles, face a little red. "Or maybe you just peeked in my DVD cabinet when I was in the bathroom?"

"Both, Georgie boy." She teases.

He doesn't get mad; she wonders when she'll stop expecting it to happen. It's not that he never gets angry— that would just be creepy— it's just that it takes a bit more to provoke George than a little light mocking. "Fine, so you busted me." He shrugs, giving her a lopsided, mischievous grin. "That just means that now I get to know something embarrassing about you."

"Hmmm, well…I guess it would only be fair." She says nonchalantly, rubbing her chin as if pretending to be deep in thought. "Uh, I have a…collection of pressed leaves. I go out looking for them in the fall and save the ones I like."

George snickers, trying hard not to picture Shego sitting around daintily pressing carefully collected leaves into expensive, decorated books bought especially for that purpose. The image is just so absurd; Shego would most likely get impatient and incinerate the entire thing after about three minutes. Laughing out loud would probably insult Ava, but avoiding it is getting harder.

Ava sends him a withering look. "What now?"

"It's not really that funny— it's— it's just— Shego— and leaves, pressing leaves—" George practically hiccups, trying to hide his expression behind his hand.

"Right. I get it. Well, if it helps, I've already pictured Drakken in full Vulcan gear, complete with pointy ears, at a _Star Trek_ convention." Ava tells him in a deadpan tone.

That's too much for George, and he bursts out in a loud belly laugh, unable to hold it in anymore.

Soon, Ava is laughing, too.

'George' might be a dull name. 'George' has a few advantages, however. 'George' has several girlfriends and a marriage behind him. 'George' knows how to talk to women. 'George' doesn't have the foot in mouth disease or an insane temper. George is interested in hearing what other people, especially Ava, have to say.

And 'Ava' doesn't have the cool cynicism and fiery temper of Shego. She's practical-minded and opinionated, but she's more patient and doesn't have that constant need to mock. She listens. And Shego would never have given away personal information that willingly.

George and Ava laugh a lot. And quite often not even at each other.

George tells himself he'll get used to it at some point.

_**TBC.**_

* * *

**Author's note:** This is a two-parter. There will only be one more chapter. Just a silly little idea that popped into my head last year, very loosely based on an episode of _Red Dwarf_ called _Back to Reality_.

A huge **Thank You** to **Charlotte C**, who remains my fabulous beta despite her busy life. I'm glad this story amused you. I had no idea you drive a Volvo. XD

This story is dedicated to **Marvolo Cassius**, who wanted to read D/S AU. Well, Marv, I tried my best, so I hope you won't think this is _too_ much of an 'apple slice story'. ;)

Another thank you goes out to **CJS** for suggesting **Michigan State University** as the college where Drakken would work. I didn't know what to put there. Then I chose **East Lansing High School** because it's close to MSU. **CJS **also helped me pick a hobby for Shego— the leaves pressing thing. XD

Before anybody asks— no, I do not have an extensive collection of _Star Trek_ DVDs. I don't even own _one_ _Star Trek_ DVD. I think my boyfriend has a couple, though. XD

**Like A Stone ****Inside My Shoe: **Title stolen from the lyrics to_ Jerkin' Back and Forth_ by Devo.

**Capisce: **The correct Italian spelling of this word. Usually seen as 'capice' in the US, my beta tells me.

**Mukunda Suresh:** Named partly after Mohinder Suresh from _HEROES_. Just be glad I didn't just go ahead and steal the entire name. :P

**George Nowak and Ava Bernstein:** I deliberately chose names that were nothing like Drakken and Shego's. I didn't want Drew or Drake or Sherry or Sheila or anything like that. I didn't even want the names to start with the same letters.

Ava was one of the first names I saw when I searched for popular baby names for girls. Bernstein was one of the first names I saw when I searched for Jewish last names, and I chose it because of Elmer Bernstein, who composed the score to _Ghostbusters_. Nowak was one of the names I saw and liked when I searched for Polish last names, and George is one of the popular baby names for boys. I originally wanted to call him Kowalski, but dropped the idea since it sounded too much like Lipsky.

**I do realize** **that, out of Drakken and Shego, it's more likely that Drakken's Jewish**, what with Estelle Harris playing his stereotypical Jewish mother and all, but considering that this is George and Ava, not Drakken and Shego, and Mama Lipsky doesn't even exist anymore, that's kind of irrelevant here, wouldn't you say?


	2. Chocolate

**Like A Stone Inside My Shoe **

By Ninnik Nishukan

* * *

**Summary:** Drakken and Shego's realities go splat. Come meet some new faces. Post-Graduation AU.

* * *

The day has come for them to evaluate _Kim Possible_. The game.

And they're approaching the task with unexpected eagerness, Charlie thinks. They have a _lot_ of things to comment on.

Unfortunately for Charlie and Mukunda, a lot of the things they're writing are complaints.

"You should definitely make the sidekick less lippy," George quotes as he's writing.

"And the villain less ranty and bossy," Ava follows up, typing furiously.

"Hey, I wasn't— I mean, the villain wasn't _that_ bad, was he?"

"Rant City, Bossa-fornia."

"Oh, _clever_, Ava! And you wonder why you're still stuck as a high school teacher— maybe it's because you're so _lippy_!"

"Oh, _lah-di-dah_! Listen to Mr. High and Mighty college professor!"

"Uh, guys, you're kinda starting to sound a little like…um— could you please calm down and finish the questions?" Charlie interrupts hastily. "I kinda need to go ahead and send them in by Thursday."

"Sorry, Charlie," Ava says with an apologetic smile.

"It's okay," Charlie reassures them.

George sends him a sheepish grin and shrugs before they return to their computer surveys and continue typing.

"Lose the naked mole rat." Ava reads aloud.

"Make the heroine less perfect!" George demands.

Ava goes on, equally mercilessly: "Hell, yes! She was worse than Superman! So untouchable! At least Superman had Kryptonite! I mean, give the villains a _break_, huh?"

"Okay…" Mukunda mumbles, taking notes.

"And what's with the kiddie-friendly atmosphere?" George complains.

"Yeah, I mean, don't people ever do anything more than kiss each other and hold hands or what?" Ava asks expectantly.

George shakes his head. "And don't they ever get drunk or, I dunno, smoke or curse or— I mean, it's not like I want them to have orgies and drop the f-bomb every two seconds, but maybe it could be a bit more realistic? I mean, nobody ever dies even if entire buildings blow up!"

Charlie reddens a bit. "Um, well, we prefer to make games that are available for all ages," he mutters.

"Translation: We're owned by Disney." Mukunda says with a smug grin, elbowing his partner.

"Shut up," Charlie groans.

"Fine, then," George sighs. "Just give the villains a break now and then and make the heroine less perfect…oh, and make her sidekick less annoying!"

"Yeah, and what was up with him dropping his pants all the time?" Ava backs him up.

"Just, uh, you know, a running gag for the kids." Charlie mumbles, fixating his gaze on his clipboard.

Ava groans. "Oy vey."

"The feedback from the people who played Kim and Ron was a _lot_ more positive, you know," Charlie tells them, somewhat reproachfully.

George scoffs. "Yeah, I bet. They always won."

"Well, of course!" Charlie blurts, getting a bit upset. "They're the heroes!"

George shrugs. "All I'm saying is that if you expect people to want to play as the villains, you'll have to make it less of a hassle."

Ava nods. "It's supposed to be fun, right?"

Charlie is looking increasingly crestfallen. "Well, I…didn't you have _any_ fun?"

A mischievous little grin appears on George's face. "Well, there were _some_ fun moments…"

Ava chuckles. "Yeah, sometimes it was kinda decent."

"Remember the time we tied Possible and her sidekick to a metal pole and waited for lightning to strike?"

"Hah, yeah! Or the time you tricked her into dating a synthodrone!"

Charlie livens up at that. "See? There you go, then! Fun!"

Mukunda only frowns in concern at the matching smirks of malicious reminiscence on George and Ava's faces. "Right. Fun."

"You know, speaking of Kim Possible and her boyfriend…" George begins thoughtfully. "Will we ever get to meet the people who played them, maybe? I mean, I know _I_ never met them— did _you_, Ava?"

"Nope, I never did. I think they were in another room." Ava shakes her head, the same puzzled look creeping across her face. "So…who _are_ they?"

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to divulge that information." Charlie says seriously. "We promised our test subjects that they could remain anonymous with regards to the other test subjects if they wanted to, remember? Except you agreed to be in the same room since you'd met already, through me?"

"Oohh, okay," George says, nodding. "Anonymous. Right. You're obligated to keep their real identities a secret. I understand."

Charlie nods, too. "Yeah."

George clears his throat. "So, um…we don't get _any_ hints at all?"

Charlie sighs. "George…"

"Did the people playing Possible and Stoppable know each other?" Ava asks curiously.

Charlie hesitates, exchanging a quick glance with Mukunda, who shrugs; it doesn't seem like telling them that could hurt. "Nope, they didn't."

"So, were they male? Female? Do we at least get to know how old they were?" George wonders.

Mukunda shakes his head. "Sorry, Mr. Nowak. We have our rules."

Suddenly, Ava is snickering, and everybody turns to her. "Hey, wouldn't it be hilarious if Kim Possible was really a fat and balding fifty-seven year old garbage man?" She asks, elbowing George slightly with a grin.

A short bark of laughter escapes George. "Or what if the buffoon was a trailer park redneck with a dozen children and a permanent guest spot on Jerry Springer?"

George and Ava both start guffawing.

Neither Charlie nor Mukunda are laughing, though. Charlie is just looking at the two with a kind of lopsided frown.

And again, Mukunda has noticed the twin expressions of poorly concealed malign amusement on George and Ava's faces.

Mukunda makes another note on his clipboard: _'Possible side effects may include…'_

* * *

They're sitting on the floor of his bedroom, half-heartedly watching TV like bored, restive teenagers, their minds elsewhere.

"So...um...first day of work tomorrow." She ventures, her gaze slipping down and apparently locking on her knees, or maybe the bedroom carpet.

He glances at her sideways. "Yep."

"Nervous?"

He considers it, before finally shaking his head. He's been in his job for too long to be nervous. "Not really. You?"

"It's not really about being nervous, it's about just..." She tries to find the words to explain her feelings, and fails. "...not wanting to go to work."

"Well...Disney _did_ give us a rather generous compensation for being their test subjects." George reminds her.

A small, irritated frown line appears on Ava's brow. "So? Not like _that's _going to last forever. I have to _work_."

"Yes, but it would last you until you could find a new job, at least. You don't _have_ to go." He points out, trying to make her be reasonable. She's obviously torn between duty and her own wishes, and it's not as easy as he's trying to make it sound, but...he just doesn't want her to be miserable.

"I have to give a two week resignation notice. I can't just..._not show up_ tomorrow." She says dully.

"Quit in two weeks, then." He presses, his hand hovering above her shoulder for a second, but then retreating. He clenches his hand by his side, hoping she didn't notice.

Ava gives him a wretched look. "I don't know..."

"What's the problem?" George asks, leaning closer, starting to feel more concerned.

Ava has to practically force the next sentence out of herself; Shego never really felt _obligated_ to do anything. Not often, anyway. "Well, my friend Janice works there, too. I'm sure she'd be disappointed if I quit."

George frowns. "But won't she understand it if you're unhappy there?"

Ava notices that she's wringing her hands in her lap, and stops, frowning. "I guess, it's just...before the game, I wasn't. Unhappy with my job, I mean. Not really."

George nods, but doesn't quite know what to say.

A lot of things felt different before the game.

A _lot_ of things.

* * *

George Nowak used to have friends at work.

That was before the divorce.

Now, some of them have gotten transferred, as people do, and the rest he knew through his wife, so they don't really speak to him anymore.

He sort of…forgot about that.

It's not that they don't like him, it's more just that…they don't really know him. He's out of touch with the old ones, and he hasn't tried to get to know the new ones.

After the divorce, he just buried himself in his work. Maybe that was why he said yes when Charlie wanted to recruit him for his project.

_Oh, well_, he thinks as he trudges through the university on his way to his usual lecture hall, only earning the mandatory murmurs of 'good morning' from his colleagues, _at least I'm still loved by my students._

When the lecture begins, he still feels that little thrill at having a captive audience. He can tell by the fact that they're even more attentive than usual that whoever subbed for him while he was gone wasn't considered as engaging as professor Nowak.

However, as the minutes tick by, he's getting a bit bored with the contents of his lecture. The things he's teaching them are so…so ordinary, and so are their questions.

Nothing like—

Finally, however, he receives an interesting question.

It's from Lauren Ishikawa, a third generation Japanese-American and one of his brightest students. He holds his breath in anticipation as she raises her hand, eager to have the dullness of the lecture so far broken.

"Professor Nowak," Lauren's voice rings out, clear as a bell, "I'm just wondering…in our lifetime, do you think we'll ever see the kind of highly sophisticated Artificial Intelligence we see in the movies?"

He gives Lauren and the rest of the students a huge grin. "Of course it's possible! Why, when I built the Bebes, I—" He freezes, his mouth opening and closing.

Lauren frowns. "Uh…the 'Bebes', professor?"

"Um…" George can feel his face flushing with embarrassment, his throat going dry. "Oh, ahah, just my little joke! I mean, in the future, I suppose anything might be possible at the rate we're going now! If not in my lifetime, then perhaps in yours!"

Lauren looks a little puzzled, but nods politely. "True, professor."

George experiences a heavy, queasy sensation in his gut as he truly realizes, once and for all, that there are so many, many things he can't do now that were possible in that game.

Now, here, they're only possible in the movies and series in his science fiction collection.

It's like having been given the ability to play the piano like Mozart and then losing the ability just as quickly, right before an important concert.

If only he could show his students even a _fraction_ of the things Dr. Drakken was capable of…!

But he's not Drakken. He's professor Nowak, and he has a class to teach.

So he drones on about the history of robotics from the sixties to the present day, listening to his students eagerly taking notes as he displays his fancy PowerPoint slideshows.

He used to find this stuff honestly fascinating.

Now, after having built robots that were capable of independent thought to the point of rebelling against their maker, it all seems endlessly dull. Now, after he's seen mutants and human clones— he was _cloning _people, just like that— and giant lasers capable of destroying entire cities, it seems so utterly, utterly—

—pointless.

Somewhere, hovering at the back of his mind, there's an elusive, yet increasingly clear mental image of what the university would look like if he conjured up a batch of homemade explosives and just—

"Boom," he whispers quietly to himself when the lecture is over and the students flock to his desk to ask him questions.

* * *

Ava Bernstein has friends at work. Several. Shego wasn't used to having friends.

Luckily, Ava is.

And it's...actually not bad. A little chatter over coffee, a little comparing of schedules, a little gossip...socializing. Shego was never too good at that.

Being...nice to other people who are already being nice to her isn't too hard. It's interesting. Makes her feel good.

"Hey, Ava," Janice is sidling up to her now with her usual cup of over-brewed, funny-smelling herbal tea. "How did you-know-what go, hmm?" She asks, trying to keep her voice down.

"It went...fine," Ava shrugs. "Nobody died." She jokes evasively.

Janice laughs. "Then I assume Charlie treated you guys decently and I don't have to kick his ass." She elbows Ava, winking. "How about your...uh, you know, 'partner in crime'? He any cute at all?"

"Oh, he's...uh, nice." Ava clears her throat, smiles a little. "We're sorta...keeping in touch, actually."

Janice grins widely. "Is _that_ what the kids call it nowadays?"

Ava rolls her eyes. "Funny, Janice."

"Hey, listen, I'll talk to you later, I have to get to class." Janice bumps her hip with Ava's, sends her a conspiratorial smile. "Let's go out this weekend, okay? Celebrate? Yeah? I'm sure my hubby wouldn't mind watching the baby."

Ava is humming to herself on the way to her classroom.

The second Ava walks into her classroom, however, seeing her students again feels like nails across a mental blackboard. She never particularly _liked_ them per se, but now…now she wishes she was somewhere entirely elsewhere.

"Where you been, huh, Bernstein?" Jeremy asks in his usual loudmouth manner, feet up on his desk, chair tipping precariously backwards in a way he probably thinks is rebellious and cool.

Crap. She'd almost forgotten about Jeremy.

"I bet she's pregnant," Ava hears one of the bleach blonde girls at the back whisper to her friend.

"Uh huh, and I bet she's banging the math teacher…!" Bleach blonde number two hisses back in delight.

"Mr. Carlton? Eww…! He's all…like, _old _and _dandruffy_!"

"I've been to Hawaii," Ava says just a bit too brightly. "It was an exchange program through the school."

"Yeah?" Jeremy demands. "Then how come we didn't get a teacher from Hawaii when you were gone?"

"And why are you so _pale_?" One of the blonde girls chimes in, backed up immediately by her friend: "Yeah, shouldn't you have a _tan_ if you've been to Hawaii?"

"Pregnant," a third girl, this one a brunette, contributes in a stage whisper, and there's a trio of giggles from the back.

"Let's just get started, huh?" Ava says through gritted teeth, picking up a piece of chalk.

Not all the students are brats. Some of them are even decent; some of them make the job almost worth it. But a lot of them…

She can picture it perfectly in her mind, how they'd scream if she destroyed the pillars with her plasma and jumped out the window, leaving her students to be crushed under mortar and steel as the roof would collapse.

How their voices would be cut off suddenly, like somebody turning off a noisy, bad record at a party to put on something better.

How her headache would go away.

But she doesn't have her powers.

So she teaches the obnoxious teens about the periodic table of elements while trying to ignore her headache.

Shego would have just pushed the chattering girls' desks apart, kicked Jeremy's carelessly tilted chair over and given them a nice, fear-inducing lecture, accompanied by some green, glowing incentive to just shut the hell up and do whatever she said.

No, wait— Shego would never even have _been_ here in the first place. She'd have been relaxing on a beach somewhere or knocking over a bank or entertaining herself by mocking her Dr. D.

But she's not Shego.

By the end of the day, Ava's head is practically throbbing.

* * *

After the workday is over, Ava surprises George by the fact that she's waiting for him in the parking lot, with a long coat, scarf, gloves, knit hat and a tired scowl.

George takes one look at her conflicted facial expression and refrains from comment, simply following her and getting in her grey Volvo, leaving his own red Toyota there, despite the bad weather. It doesn't seem to matter.

It looks like she's had a strange day at work, too, and needs some company.

By some kind of silent consent, they decide to have dinner together, so they go out grocery shopping, maneuvering the cart between rows of fruit and vegetables, meat and fish, toilet paper, shampoo, bread and cereal.

When they get to the candy shelves, Ava heads straight for the dark chocolate. She's got a sweet tooth that Shego didn't have, which is probably why she weighs around seven pounds more than Shego.

Well…_that_, and the fact that she's not a twenty-seven year-old Kung Fu-ing villainess with super powers who has to stay in shape to fight a girl about ten years younger than her every week.

_Maybe I should __apply for that job as a gym teacher_, she muses, and there's a sudden sinking feeling in her stomach. She doesn't want _that_ job, either.

She notices that George is standing just behind her shoulder, waiting for her to finish.

Ava clutches the large bar of mint-filled, dark chocolate tightly in her hand, staring straight ahead, seemingly right through the shelf and at something faraway.

"Are you getting that or not?" George asks, and the shade of irritated impatience in his voice reminds her of—

"Are you as bored as me?" She asks quietly, and feels him lean forward; he's probably frowning now.

"Hmmm?"

"Are you as bored as me?" She repeats, turning to him and meeting the dark brown of his perplexed eyes.

"Wha— well, I dunno, I…what do you mean?" He babbles, blinking.

She raises an eyebrow, and there's a sudden understanding on his face. "Yes." He breathes, his fingers finding her wrist and encircling it. He can feel her pulse point jumping insistently against his skin.

"Let's leave the cart here and just _take_ this," Ava presses suddenly, with a certain air of desperation. "In fact, let's take two. You can put them inside your coat…!"

"But what about the groceries—"

"We'll shop somewhere else," she persists, pushing the chocolate towards him.

Before he even knows what he's doing, he's got them stashed inside his coat and they're strolling out of the store as nonchalantly as they can, trying not to laugh.

* * *

They make it down to a small bridge in the nearby park, sputtering and giggling hysterically, snow crunching underfoot as they run away from the store, and then they're leaning on the bridge and breaking off pieces of chocolate and laughing helplessly as they eat.

Ava is gasping for breath. "Oh, jeez, I can't believe— this is so _lame_!" She declares, but keeps laughing.

"Stealing chocolate like a couple of brats! We're too _old_ for this!" George objects, panting.

Ava elbows him. "Hey, speak for yourself!"

He grunts. "I'm just saying—"

She grins widely. "I know what you meant. Lighten up, gramps."

He scowls. "Don't be cute."

Her grin curls into a teasing smirk. "I can't help it, I was born that way."

They're bantering, they suddenly realize.

She leans on him, probably too close, grinning. "Maybe next time, we should go for something bigger."

His tone is oozing dry sarcasm. "Oh, yeah, next time it'll be a couple of T-bone steaks, huh?"

Her laughter rings out beautifully, her breath freezing in the air in fluffy little puffs. "Or maybe a Pan Dimensional Vortex Inducer!" She jokes, squeezing his arm.

She doesn't comment when his arm finds its way around her waist, and he figures it's because it's cold; nevertheless, it makes him feel a bit elated.

"Do you miss it?" George asks, then, and she immediately knows that he's referring to those other identities, that other life.

"Not right now," Ava answers, sounding slightly out of breath as she leans over, lips parting.

He tastes like shoplifted chocolate.

Shoplifted chocolate and electricity—

* * *

"…George?" She murmurs, trying to focus her hazy gaze.

He clears his throat, squinting. "Umm…Ava?"

They stare at each other.

No. Not George and Ava. Not anymore.

Blue skin, green skin, lab coat, cat suit, ponytail, long, long hair—

"Dr. D." She says flatly.

He exhales in relief. "Shego…"

"Where are we?" She asks, noticing that they're strapped down to a couple of metal chairs that seem to be only part of a large, warm but silent machine; as if the power has just died out.

He scouts around— they appear to be in some sort of dark underground room— as she quickly melts through her own restraints before she goes on to remove his. Then they make short work of the strange sets of red, rubber-tipped wires stuck to their foreheads and temples.

"I…we're not in the game again." He states firmly, but immediately wavers, turning nervous: "_Are_ we?"

Shego shakes her head with conviction. Getting her powers back feels so wonderful that she almost wouldn't even care if it _was_ the game, but she's sure it's not, and he glances at her before nodding as well.

The simple fact that their memories are returning much, much faster this time seems to tell them that this is the _real _reality. It just feels…_right_.

He stands up. "No, I don't remember us going back to TWE, we were—"

"Down by the bridge." She finishes.

"We kissed." He recalls suddenly, looking at her in awe.

Shego cringes a little. "Yeah, um, about that—"

"I…I liked that part." Drakken blurts out without thinking; he blames it on the dizziness.

Shego feels her heart leap in her chest, her gut pinching, panic rising steadily. "L-listen, don't get carried away, Doc, it was all just—"

Drakken knows it's insane, but he has to follow up on this now, before she squirms herself out of his grasp again like a slippery little herring. "—but, but Shego, things have been weird between us for weeks— no, _months_, so you can't tell me that that…_thing_ in the game, wasn't— that it's not some sort of _sign_—"

Shego grabs his arm, shaking him a little. "Wait, Dr. D, this is no time for— we don't even know where we _are_ right now!"

But Drakken is grabbing both of her arms now, holding her in place. "We'll find out! Just—"

She doesn't believe in so-called 'signs', but— _but_ _it didn't mean __**nothing**_, she thinks, and is suddenly a little saddened at not having Ava's straightforward emotional frankness anymore. "Drakken, stop kidding around," she says instead, interrupting him with her best stern teacher voice.

"You're right, yes, we have to get out of here," Drakken licks his lips, nodding as he lets her go. "But Shego, you have to promise that…that _later_, we'll talk about…about _us_!"

"Is that a suggestion, a plea or an order?" Shego replies dryly.

"All of the above?" He suggests, hopeful.

"I don't know, this is all so _sudden_…!" She sighs, in a blunt parody of a surprised and swooning heroine.

"Look," he snaps, waving a dismissive hand, "as long as you'll at least agree to acknowledge that _something_ is going on between us, we can talk about the rest longer down the road!"

She cocks an eyebrow. "_How_ much longer?"

"Um…very?" He hazards.

She shrugs. "Okay, I'll bite. Now let's skedaddle."

He nods eagerly. "Right!"

"Where _are_ we, anyway?"

"You are in the lair of the GREAT AND POWERFUL OZ— no, no, no, that's not it— crap, and I _rehearsed_ this and everything— Mittens, get away from the control panel, you stupid cat! This is all _your_ fault!"

Drakken and Shego share a disoriented look.

"Uh, hello?" Drakken calls out, trying to see beyond the foggy interior of…wherever they are. If he didn't know better, he'd swear that whoever it is has rented a smoke machine just to appear more dramatic.

"HELLO!" The voice booms. "You are being held captive by LORD MÖGARTH! Tremble in fear!"

Drakken's monobrow shoots up. "Who?"

"_Captive_? Yeah, uh, _not _so much. Unless you haven't noticed, we're in the process of escaping, Lord Moron." Shego snarks.

"Oh, I never thought I'd say this, Shego, but I just realized how much I've missed your sarcasm!" Drakken gushes suddenly, grinning at her.

Chuckling, she rolls her eyes. "Hey, I never thought I'd actually miss your monobrow, either." She shoots back, getting a scowl in return.

"E-EXCUSE ME?" Lord Mögarth snaps. "Can we have the attention back to ME, please?"

Drakken snorts. "Villains don't tell their so-called captives 'please'. What kind of _amateur _are you?"

"I am Lord Mögarth!" The voice exclaims, a little less ominous and a little more indignant now. "So…so just be QUIET and get back in your chairs and let my minions strap you down, OR SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES!"

"What consequences?"

"What minions?"

A pair of hesitant young men dressed in red uniforms with purple visors and matching boots and gloves shuffle out of the smoke, one of them holding a cattle prod and the other brandishing what looks like a movie prop halberd.

Shego gives a disgusted scoff, tilting her hip. "Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me."

Drakken looks the two 'minions' up and down in disbelief. They can't be older than eighteen. "What _is_ this, some kind of fraternity hazing stunt?"

Shego grunts with impatience. "What sorta _lame_—"

"Ahah!" Lord Mögarth's voice echoes in the large room. "_Lame_, you say? Well, could a bunch of _lame_ frat boys have managed to capture the infamous Dr. Drakken and Shego and hold them captive for— for nearly an _hour_?"

"Oh, so it's only been an hour?" Drakken remarks, brightening a bit. "How did you capture us, anyway?"

"Easy!" Lord Mögarth laughs derisively. "We simply incapacitated you just as you were on your way to the Karaoke Cavern! All it took was a little shock of electricity and— whammo! You never saw it coming!"

"So you got me out of karaoke night, huh?" Shego says, looking thoughtful. "Gee, I think I'll have to send you a fruit basket just for _that_."

"Shego!" Drakken yells, turning red.

"DO NOT MAKE LIGHT OF THE NEFARIOUS LORD MÖGARTH!" The voice bellows.

However, Shego is completely unperturbed by the admonishments. "Hey, Lord Mogey, I was wondering— what about Possible and her little boy toy? They were mentioned a few times. Does that mean you got them strapped down somewhere, too?" She asks, taking a look around.

Lord Mögarth releases an exasperated snort. "Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable? Why would I capture _them_? _They_ don't have any _super powers_ I can steal! I didn't even bother adding them to the program other than in name only. _Way_ too much work otherwise. I mean, _really_, you'd be surprised how much work it takes to program something as simple as a _background_, even—" He halts, then, as if realizing that he's getting distracted. "Anyway!" He exclaims abruptly. "That's not important! What's _important_ is that you are AT MY MERCY AND WILL OBEY M—"

"Oh, put a _ham_ in it, Lord What's-your-face!" Drakken barks, finally getting fed up. "Shego, rough these guys up. I'll go deal with this infernal machine of his—"

"No! Not the machine! I was going to use it to steal your powers!"

"Well, it looks like it didn't work." Shego says, letting her plasma flare up.

Lord Mögarth splutters. "B-but— that's not _my _fault! It takes time! I needed you to be fully immersed in the virtual reality program first so you wouldn't wake up! And you _were_! I was _just_ about to—"

Shego shoots an overbearing look in the general direction of Lord Mögarth's voice. "Uh, yeah, about the program? Lamest virtual reality _ever_! I mean, _Volvos_ and _Star Trek_?"

"Hah, yes! As if _that_ would hold _us_! We obviously just got bored and broke free!" Drakken continues triumphantly.

Lord Mögarth's voice takes on a patronizing tone. "Uh, no, actually, it wouldn't have mattered at all what kind of program it was, once you got far enough into it— you were trapped! I could've put you in a Cuddle Buddies cartoon if I'd wanted to, and it wouldn't have made any difference!" He explains, clearly trying to convey that they have _no_ idea what they're talking about. "The only reason why it didn't work is because Mittens stepped on the control panel and cut the power to the machine!"

"Oh." Drakken blinks. So much for mind over matter.

"Well, I don't know who…'Mittens' is, but hey…thanks, Mittens!" Shego laughs evilly, and advances on the two 'minions', who are now practically shivering in their purple boots.

"HALT!"

"…_excuse_ me?" Drakken and Shego whirl around, and catch sight of a third person. Judging by the guy's outfit, he must be the leader. And if the big 'LM' on his chest is any indication, this is Lord Mögarth.

Lord Mögarth is of average height, with a long, red coat, a purple cape that's too long for him, and a pair of immense, black, shiny leather boots with matching leather gloves. He's also wearing what looks like a wrestling mask, and he's holding a megaphone.

"Jeez Louise." Drakken shakes his head, wondering what's become of the new villains of today. "Shego, take care of this."

"Right, Doc—"

"You won't get away with this!" Lord Mögarth insists, trying to swish his cape dramatically. He only ends up almost tripping over it.

Shego clucks her tongue. "Didn't anybody ever tell you that putting red and purple together is a _big _fashion _don't_?"

"You know, Shego," Drakken says with a nasty smirk. "I've been wanting to test out these new plant powers of mine some more…"

"Go to it, Dr. D." Shego smirks back, her hands igniting, glowing green. _Oh boy, I've __**really**__ missed that, _she thinks. "I'll handle the goons."

Lord Mögarth gawks, and completely forgets to use his megaphone when he speaks next: "Wait, you can't, you're— you're _heroes_! You— you—"

When they hear his real voice, they can tell he's a lot younger than they thought. They pause, exchanging a glance that clearly says: Newbie. He had a clever idea, and he got lucky with managing to capture them, but he's a complete and utter novice. Can't be more than nineteen. Borrowed mommy's secret lab.

"We're not heroes," Shego says with deliberate slowness.

"We're just a couple of villains who saved the world from aliens once because we happen to _live_ here." Drakken finishes, in much the same overbearing tones. "Just because we've been a little…_quiet_ lately, it doesn't mean we're reformed!"

"But— but— I thought—" The novice stammers as he watches the now infamous plant crawling out of Drakken's collar, moving almost like a snake, but quicker.

By the time they're done with the wannabe villain and his so-called minions, Lord Mögarth is curled up in a fetal position on the floor, vowing to become a chiropractor instead, like his father wants him to.

Mittens simply sits and watches with indifference, calmly licking her white paws.

"Maybe we could use this machine ourselves," Drakken says then, studying the device with a contemplative glint in his eyes.

Shego shakes her head in a very resolved manner. "Dr. D…ask yourself this…would you _really_ want to go on to your next evil scheme knowing you've ripped the idea off from Lord Mama's Boy and the Rascals here? Or _worse_, risk getting stuck in that virtual reality program again?" Her calm demeanor cracks a bit, then, as she grits her teeth: "I dunno about _you_, but I've been Attitudinated, Moodulated, turned into Ava Bernstein, _thirty-two-year-old high school teacher_, not to mention that _you_ put a _mind control chip_ on me once— so I am _not_ going to have my behavior modified yet _again_!"

Drakken grimaces. "Eh…you've got a point."

So they destroy the machine before they leave.

_And_ the blueprints.

Half an hour later, Team Possible— summoned by an anonymous phone call that Wade received twenty minutes earlier— busts into Lord Mögarth's secret basement lair.

The virtual reality machine may have been destroyed, but the several hundred thousands of dollars worth of stolen parts found there ensure Lord Mögarth and his minions a nice little trip to jail.

* * *

Later that evening, when they've gone grocery shopping and have gone home again, Shego notices a smudge of shoplifted chocolate in the corner of Drakken's mouth as they're sitting casually in front of the TV, resting after the long day. Apart and not touching, like friends or companions.

Usually, she might've just retired to her room, and he might've gone to work on something-or-other in his lab.

Tonight, things are apparently different.

Without thinking, she reaches over to wipe the chocolate off…and finds herself lingering there, in front of his face. He ventures an uncertain smile as she drifts closer.

"Sh-Shego…?"

He tastes like shoplifted chocolate, fear, joy, hesitance, eagerness, lust and affection and— warm, soft, wet, reassuring, exciting, scary—

"Do you miss it?" Drakken asks a bit hoarsely as their lips part, and she immediately knows that he's referring to those other identities, that other life.

"Don't be stupid," Shego answers, her face drawing nearer to his again.

Chocolate never tasted _this_ good _there_.

**The End.**

* * *

**Author's note:** I'm sure this ending raises plenty of questions regarding the virtual reality program, but I probably won't be able to answer most of them. Sorta like the KP people did when writing their episodes, this story was just me having a little fun (with AU this time)— and, like a regular KP episode, it probably left me with a bunch of plot holes for the sake of fun. XD **And there won't be a sequel, no.**

Hope you enjoyed it, anyway.

**I realize this story is sort of similar to **_**Symbiosis**__,_ the third instalment in _The Ones That Never Happened_, at least in that it describes an altered reality that pops back to normal at the end, but I just couldn't resist writing it. XD

Please take note of the fact that **what George and Ava wrote in their evaluation forms does NOT necessarily reflect my own opinions on KP. **It's just what I imagine two real world adults might say after playing as the villains for a week in a Disney-verse.

Thanks to **Charlotte C** for doing the beta once again. Be sure to keep an eye out for her fabulous story _Long Strange Trip_, which will be updated soon. I swear, that story just keeps getting better and better!

**Lord Mögarth:** Name inspired by what Billy's dad insisted his name was in the _Battle of The Bands_ episode of _The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy_. I had no idea how to spell what he said (it sounded sorta like MEEEUUGAARRR XD), so I just made something up.

I just thought it might be funny if D/S were mistaken for heroes once and ended up behaving much like Kim and Ron do when they've been captured— i.e. mocking the villain. I also thought it might be interesting to see Drakken trying to cheer up Shego instead of vice versa— even though it wasn't _technically_ Drakken and Shego, but George and Ava.

* * *


End file.
